


Leveling the Field

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Gen, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Post-Deathly Hallows, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4772306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected meeting at a Ministry party lets Harry and Draco level the field.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leveling the Field

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the 2013 hpholiday exchange for osky291.

"Is he gone?" Harry looked at Ginny over the top of his glass of punch. 

Ginny glanced surreptitiously over his shoulder. "Yes. I'm surprised he hasn't recognized you from the back—oh, it's not that. He's spotted Hermione now." 

Harry slumped in relief. 

"You know you'll owe Hermione for that." 

"Yes, but it'll be worth it." Harry slipped his arm around his wife's waist. "When can we leave?" 

Ginny laughed. "At least not until we've seen your boss." 

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I reckon he's hiding until we've stayed long enough for him to be satisfied."

"Sounds like Kingsley." 

Harry sighed and looked around the ballroom. It wasn't that he was completely antisocial, but this was his and Ginny's last Christmas as just the two of them and he wasn't enjoying spending part of that time, one of those few precious Friday nights, at the Ministry. He also wasn't wild about the stares, though it must have been far worse for Ginny. She had been able to finish the Quidditch season before showing much, but there was no good doing anything to ignore the rumors now. 

Those rumors had been fueling articles for months (truthfully, it had been ever since they'd gotten married two years ago, or maybe it had started when Ginny was spotted shopping for baby things in Diagon Alley when Fleur had been expecting Victoire). Now, a few weeks after Harry and Ginny had given the exclusive to Luna, the questions hadn't stopped. 

Harry was so used to the congratulations by now that he almost didn't notice who was standing before him now. 

"Congratulations." 

Harry smiled. "Thanks. We're really—" He paused. It was Draco Malfoy. 

He wore stiff black robes, but somehow, Harry had to admit, looked nowhere near as awkward as he had at the Yule Ball in fourth year. The six years since they'd met had matured him.

He was standing next to a woman Harry didn't recognize. His wife? Harry wracked his brains, finally coming up with a vaguely-remembered _Daily Prophet_ announcement of the Malfoy nuptials. He couldn't remember her name, though. 

"I don't believe you've met my wife, Astoria." Malfoy smiled graciously. "Astoria, this is Harry Potter and his wife Ginny." 

Harry fought not to smile. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually had to introduce himself, but he appreciated Malfoy's politeness. 

Astoria extended her hand to Ginny. "It's so nice to meet you. My maiden name was Greengrass."

"Oh, are you Daphne's sister?" Harry didn't know Astoria, but he recognized the name Greengrass. 

"Yes—I was two years behind you," Astoria explained. "We were married in August." 

"Congratulations," Ginny said. 

As their wives fell into conversation, Harry let his eyes move up to Draco Malfoy's face for the first time since they'd spoken. He looked older than their twenty-four years. Harry supposed losing a war would do that to you. Thinking back on it, he hadn't heard much about the Malfoys since the war had ended. His last contact with any of them had been stepping in to keep Lucius and Draco out of Azkaban, though the only one of them he'd spoken to that day at the Ministry was Narcissa. He'd been glad of the opportunity to thank her for what she had done for him the night of the battle. He knew not many people, especially those who had been so devoted to him would have the courage to lie to Voldemort like that. She'd surprised him. 

"How's your mother?" Harry asked. "It's been a while since I spoke to her."

Draco got his meaning. "She's well. She asked if I might see you tonight." 

"Well, tell her I said hello." Harry shifted awkwardly. He hadn't thought Malfoy would be here. As far as Harry knew, he had followed in his father's footsteps in being so independently wealthy as to not have an official occupation, but he kept well out of Ministry business. Harry had no idea what he'd been doing with himself. 

"I understand you're an Auror now," Draco said. Harry was surprised he was keeping the conversation going, rather than politely stepping away. 

Harry nodded. "Ron and I both. He's over there." He pointed to where Ron was looking at him curiously, probably wondering why Harry was pointing him out to Draco Malfoy. 

"Well, you're certainly qualified." Draco looked down at his punch glass, then over to where their wives were chatting. "I see you've done well for yourself." 

Harry tried not to rise to the bait. "You've married," he said. "Thought you might've married Parkinson." 

Draco shook his head. "That was always more in Pansy's mind than anything else. She and I were never officially together, no matter what she might have been telling people." 

Harry didn't hide his smirk. "Well, we all assumed you were betrothed or something." 

Draco laughed and took a sip. "No, nothing like that. The ideas you must have about wizarding society…" 

"I'm doing pretty fine with wizarding society." 

"True, true." Draco looked back up at the vaulted ceiling above their heads, at the fairies milling about. "I suppose I meant _pure-blood_ society, not that it matters now. Have you seen Pansy lately?"

"No." Harry hadn't talked to any of that crowd since the end of the war, though he had found Blaise Zabini to be quite an agreeable chap down at Improper Use of Magic.

"Yes, well." Draco rubbed his chin. "It's quite apparent who stayed on the wrong side for too long. Today's world isn't too kind to anyone who didn't immediately disavow the Dark Lord and I'm pretty sure no amount of recanting can make the fact that she was ready to give you up go away." 

"True." Harry did remember something like that. "That's the last time I saw her." 

"She married Travers." Harry must have made a horrified expression because he nodded. "Yes, _that_ Travers and he _is_ too old for her. I don't imagine she could make a better match." 

Harry felt distinctly uncomfortable at this, almost a guilty feeling. He didn't like Pansy at all, but he had no desire for her to be miserable because of him (well, it had been her fault, he admitted to himself—but none of it would have happened in the first place without him). 

"Oh, she adores him," Draco added. "He's not in Azkaban, he's got pots of money and doesn't care what she does with it. She couldn't be happier." 

Harry ran a hand through hair. "I suppose that's good for her, then. How did you and Astoria get together?" 

Draco smiled thinly. "We actually have you to thank for that. We had to rebuild our social circle. The Greengrasses are pure, but they never got on the wrong side. It was very safe. Mother had it in her mind that I should woo Daphne first, the older sister, but she and I didn't exactly hit it off. Then, I met Astoria." Harry could see Draco's gaze drift to his wife. He had a dreamy sort of expression he'd never have associated with Draco Malfoy. Harry hadn't thought any of the Malfoys capable of real love before the battle, but Lucius and Narcissa, at the very least, cared for each other and their son. And for his part, Draco was no longer the boy who'd tried to turn back to the Death Eaters even after Harry had saved his life. 

"Well, congratulations," he said again.

"Thanks." Draco nodded. "I never thought I'd get the chance to be this happy. It took me a long time to get used to a different life after the war… I think my parents were worried I'd never find my feet. It was all Astoria." He shook his head ruefully. "I'd hate to think what might've happened to me without her." He looked up at Harry. "I guess this is where I thank you for saving my life." 

For a moment, Harry wasn't quite sure he'd heard him clearly. That was pretty much the last thing he'd expected Draco to say. It had been so long, it was almost as though he wasn't positive Draco would even remember it as such. 

"You're welcome."

"You didn't even think about it, did you?" Draco smiled. "Leaving us to the fates we deserved never crossed your mind." 

"No one deserves that." 

He laughed. "And yet Weasley would have left us. I would have left _you_ for that matter. That's why I say I didn't deserve it. I'd done nothing up to that point to encourage you to spare my life." 

"You didn't give us up." 

"What?" Draco looked genuinely perplexed.

"At Easter, at your house. You didn't give us up. You told your aunt you didn't recognize us." 

Draco smirked. "And the truth behind that is nowhere near the nobility you ascribe to it. I didn't have the stones, Potter. I wanted to turn you in—Merlin knows I'd have fallen over myself to get that glory, to redeem myself in the eyes of the Dark Lord. But no, I didn't have the spine for it, couldn't take the blood on my hands." 

Harry was a bit taken aback by this. For some reason, it hadn't crossed his mind—not that he totally thought Draco had had noble intentions for not giving away him, Ron, or Hermione. It was simply the revelation that Draco's mind worked totally differently from his own. And yet… 

"I understand," Harry said. "It was what you had to do. You were thinking of your family." 

"If only I had been thinking of them." Draco's eyes dipped down to his punch. "I was thinking of myself." 

"You were seventeen!" 

"So were you! You were the one who showed me how lucky I really was, in the end." He gave Harry a half-smile. "And for that I thank you. You really did save my life." 

"Well, thank you, too," Harry said. "Because you saved my life, too." 

Draco looked amused. "I suppose that makes us even then." He offered Harry his hand. "I'm glad we talked, Harry." His first name coming out of Draco Malfoy's mouth sounded odd, but Harry shook hands with him. 

If Harry didn't know better, he'd have thought Kingsley had wanted him to talk to Draco. He showed up right after the Malfoys had taken their leave and not twenty minutes later, Harry was taking Ginny's arm (for him more than for her, though he liked to pretend the opposite) as they stepped out of the kitchen fire at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. 

"Welcome home!" Kreacher bobbed in greeting. "Would master and mistress like some tea?" 

"Yes, please, Kreacher," Ginny said. "We'll take it in the drawing room. Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" she said to Harry, as they climbed the stairs. 

"No," he said truthfully. "It wasn't bad." 

"Even talking to Malfoy?" 

"No, actually. That…" He paused. "I'm glad we had a chance to speak." 

"His wife's nice. I'd never spoken to her when we were in school. She's very keen in Quidditch; she said she was glad to hear I'd be taking up a post at the _Prophet_. Something about louts who haven't been on a broom since Hogwarts acting like they know how the game is played." She grinned. "So I'll have at least one reader at least."

"Two." Harry kissed her. "Your mum's sure to clip it out each day." 

"Ha, ha." Ginny dropped onto the drawing room sofa. It was a much more comfortable one than had been in there previously, purchased by Harry at a very complicated Muggle furniture store. They were still in the process of turning the old place into somewhere to call home, and the drawing room had been the first project. Mrs. Black would have fainted to see it now, with the comfy red sofa and pictures of their friends and families.

"Anyway," Ginny said, kicking off her shoes, "you and Malfoy seemed to hit it off." 

"Yeah." Harry ran a hand over his hair. "We were sort of making amends, I guess you'd say." 

"That's good." She sank lower on the couch, eyes half closed. "At least, it's good to see he's grown out of being such a prat."

"I sort of think we'd underestimated him," Harry said thoughtfully. Kreacher appeared with the tea things then and he waited until the elf was gone before saying anything else. "We all had a lot to deal with that year." 

Ginny's mouth became a thin line and Harry winced. That year was something they still danced around sometimes and he knew he'd win no points by pointing out that the Malfoys had suffered, too. 

"What I mean is, I never really saw things from his side before—and he seemed like he saw things from mine." 

"Good," Ginny declared. "I don't think we'll ever be great friends, but maybe we ought to have them over for dinner some time." 

Harry nodded. He doubted it would happen but it was a nice thought to have here. Talking to Draco Malfoy had sort of leveled the field in a way. They didn't have to like each other, but whatever baggage they'd had hanging between them they could now both mark as resolved and get on with their lives. If he happened to see Malfoy again, it wouldn't be unbearably awkward. 

It might actually be pleasant.


End file.
